


The Hunted

by JackyJango



Series: CapriWeek2K17 [4]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Kings Rising, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 21:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11745843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackyJango/pseuds/JackyJango
Summary: It’s a little too late before Damen realises what is happening. His horse neighs loudly and drawing its legs in the air, throws him onto the ground. Damen’s bulk prevents him from bruising extensively.The cruel sun hits Damen’s face and forces him to close his eyes. There is commotion around him. The sound of hoofbeats, Pallas’s commands and the thud of boots reverberating through the ground beneath.‘Damen,’ he hears Laurent’s pained voice from his south.It’s nothing, Damen tries to say, but Laurent’s voice beats him to it.





	The Hunted

**Author's Note:**

> For CapriWeek Day 3 and Day 6 Promps: Kings and Sports
> 
> Posted on Tumblr **[here](https://jackyjango.tumblr.com/post/163760010668/the-hunted)**
> 
> Hope you enjoy it.  
> Cheers!

          'Are you sure you want to go?’ Damen asks as he picks his sword and sheaths it.

'Yes! Didn't I already tell you that?’ Laurent snaps.

Damen flinches even though the anger wasn't aimed at him. The sharpness in Laurent's voice doesn't stop him from pressing, however. 'Shouldn't you rest? You have been working from the past two days without stopping to eat. When was the last time you slept well? If I recall, you slept poorly last night as well.’

'And whose fault is that?’ Laurent's head snaps up from where he's just begun to fasten the laces of his riding leather. His hands still in the action and his gaze hardens on Damen.

'Right.’ There is little purpose in fighting with Laurent when he is like this. Thus, Damen concedes. 'Alright,’ he sighs and walks over to his lover. When he takes over the laces from Laurent's hands, the latter gives up easily. Under his hands, Laurent's muscles ease just a little. ‘I’ll tell Pallas to ready the horses.’

*

If he is to be a little honest with himself, Damen is relieved to be out of the court and in the opens. It's a welcome change to inhale fresh air and not the dusty gush that surrounds stacks of parchments. He will always choose the outdoors over arguing with indolent diplomats. It’s truly a pity that they have to return to the palace by nightfall.

The hills beyond the place of Ios are a vast green expanse, the rolling landscape filled with thickets creating excellent hunting grounds. This close to the city, Damen has no hopes of a good hunt. They would be lucky if they even caught a wild boar. 

They move further into the thickets with Damen leading a group of men and Laurent leading another, a little further to his left. The high sun forces the game into the ground and slows his men; only the insistent commands from Pallas, keeping them alert. 

Hours later and deep in the tickets, there isn’t a sign of life. 

And then, a rustle, to their right, along the edge of high shrubs. 

The soldiers are quick in drawing their poisoned arrows and aiming their spears. Damen draws his own sword and then stops as a sharp pain sears his left bicep, travelling through his arm and onto his shoulder. Instinctively he jerks his arm back, pulling the reigns along with it.

It’s a little too late before Damen realises what is happening. His horse neighs loudly and drawing its legs in the air, throws him onto the ground. Damen’s bulk prevents him from bruising extensively. 

The cruel sun hits Damen’s face and forces him to close his eyes. There is commotion around him. The sound of hoofbeats, Pallas’s commands and the thud of boots reverberating through the ground beneath.

‘Damen,’ he hears Laurent’s pained voice from his south. Damen tries to train his sight and the sun stings again. A trembling hand touches his face and a shadow covers his eyes. When Damen opens his eyes, Laurent’s harried face comes into view. The contours of his face are etched in pain as he turns his gaze to Damen’s arm. It’s only then that Damen sees the blood running along his arm and reddening the white of his chiton. 

_ It’s nothing _ , Damen tries to say, but Laurent’s voice beats him to it. 

‘Was the arrow poisoned?’ Laurents yells the question at the trembling soldiers accumulated around them. His voice is raw and face pale; naked fear covering his eyes.

‘No, your Highness.’ It’s Pallas, as he pushes his way through the soldiers. ‘I found the arrow that grazed the Exalted’s arm. It’s without poison.’ Turning to Damen, he says, ‘Your steed is wounded, Exalted. I’ve calmed him for now.’

‘Who did this?’ Laurent asks, his voice firm and promising menace. A new fear courses through the soldiers. Pallas opens his mouth to speak but Damen stops him. ‘It was an accident. Nothing but deplorable archery. Pallas, find the man and put him in the rings to train.’  

Damen steadies Laurent’s hand on his face with his. To Pallas, he orders, ‘Make arrangements to return to the palace.’

The clutter of the soldiers’ motion dissolves. Once it’s just the two of them, Laurent heaves out an audible breath. Only when Damen thinks of getting off his back, Laurent’s free hand covers his heart, keeping him in place. Damen waits while Laurent’s head bows as if in prayer and his hitching breaths steady. When he looks up at Damen again, his eyes are glassy and his face frayed, as if the exhaustion of the previous days have won him in a race.

‘Let’s just go home,’ whispers Laurent.

Damen’s heart skips a beat. The dull throb in his bicep vanishes on hearing the word.  _ Home. _

_ * _

It’s almost nightfall before they’re alone in their bed-chambers again. With servants running in and out, carrying balms and herbs on Paschal’s commands, it had been a nightmare for Damen. Laurent had sat by his side and ordered him to drink bitter, utterly bitter, juices.

It was a flesh wound. Nothing worse than the ones he had gained during his childhood attempting to climb rocks.

Damen’s breath leaves in  _ a whoosh _ when the last servant leaves. 

‘This is becoming a habit.’ Damen chuckles and walks to Laurent who is drawing the curtains close. 

‘Hush!’ says Laurent turning, ‘This is not a matter for humour.’ His voice is week and heavy at once.

Damen’s chest tightens at the concern in Laurent’s eyes. He lifts Laurent’s hand and kisses the knuckles reverently. 

‘It’s going to leave a scar,’ Laurent says quietly, tracing his free hand over the gauge covering the slit on Damen’s bicep. His gaze is far off, likely visiting the ghosts of the past.

Damen doesn’t want to let the past haunt them. Not anymore. Not when a beautiful future beckons.

Without pause, Damen pulls Laurent into his space, the intimacy forcing their brows together.

‘You know,’ Damen says with levity, ‘they say that scars increase one’s allure in the bed.’ He nuzzles Laurents ear, the action leaching the stiffness from Laurent’s form.

‘You don’t need scars to increase your allure in the bed,’ says Laurent with a bare twitch of his lips. The admission is rare, honest and shy. 

Damen laughs aloud. He pulls Laurent further into his arms and kisses him; cradling his head with one hand and holding his waist steady with the other. Laurent gives in, his arms coming to encircle Damen’s neck. 

A cool breeze sifts through the gap in the curtains as the heat in their bodies increase.

It’s Laurent who pulls away first, with a placating hand on Damen’s chest. ‘You need to rest,’ he says, ‘This can wait.’

Damen wants to protest but the surety in Laurent’s eyes prompts him against it. ‘Alright,’ he concedes.’ And then: ‘But only if you rest with me. The matters of the states can wait.’

Laurent bites his lip in contemplation, the conflict in his mind showing in the twist of his face. 

‘Alright,’ he whispers finally, shoulders sagging and body slumping into Damen’s arms.

*

The matters of the states wait for two days for their King’s attention.

*

**Author's Note:**

> Also, [JackyJango](https://jackyjango.tumblr.com) on Tumblr
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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